


Ineffably Human

by Iflyinmydreams (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Death, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22336084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Iflyinmydreams
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley find they want to be parents after unexpectedly suffering the loss of their unborn child. This decision will lead them down a path they never thought they'd go- one where they decide to become human in order to keep their child safe. Can they keep their secret? Can they really hide from all of heaven?Big thanks toOllieMayewho is my Beta reader!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 57
Kudos: 88





	1. Ineffable Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to this fandom. Please, be nice to me lol

Crowley stood in their open bedroom door and watched Aziraphale sleep. His heart shattered a bit more with every breath he took. Each moment felt like it was surely the end of them. Would this pain ever stop? How did humans deal with this every day? For years? Perhaps he underestimated their resolve. 

Turning, he left the doorway to face the coldness of his apartment alone. The plants no longer shook in fear, no, they wilted in silent mourning. It was their loss too, after all. In fact, even the old book shop seemed to groan in agony now. Not even the strongest wind could summon a creak and yet when Crowley visited to check on things it seemed to have a life all its own. A life that was fading, like his, like the angels.

The coffee brewed, the bacon sizzled, and the eggs fried. Toast with a little jam to finish things off and Crowley hoped his offering was enough. Perhaps today the Angel would speak. He wasn't going for a smile or a song.  Maybe just a “dear boy” once more from lips he loved the taste of. Lips he thought he might never get to kiss again.

“Angel?” He set the tray on the nightstand and dared to caress white curls. 

The only response were the saddest eyes he'd ever seen staring up at him.  _ Please say something,  _ Crowley could've growled. “I made you breakfast.” He was trying. He was desperate.  _ Please, Angel. Talk to me. _

Aziraphale stared at the tray a while and Crowley wished he could read minds.  Maybe he didn't need to.  Could he miracle away the memory? Miracle away the pain? Would that fix this?  He'd already tried  groveling . He'd already begged. Each day presented a new tactic. Now, defeated, he sauntered off.  The love he had for his angel was undying but for the love of all that was unholy he couldn't bare to see him cry.

Tomorrow might be better. Ah, yes, the unending hope of tomorrow.  Everyday was spent waiting for the right tomorrow to come along. The right tomorrow would see  Aziraphale get out of bed. It would see him shower and eat. It  would see him speak. Tomorrow, then.  Crowley had lost count of them but what was one more tomorrow in an endless sea of yesterday's?

The next day he would repeat his ritual. Bring Aziraphale an offering; check. Be unable to stand his presence for long and leave; check. Find yourself crying alone among the books of the store you so love because it's his; check. Come home hours later to find him still in bed; _check._ While it may be disappointing, it's not as bad as coming home and finding him gone. _Please don't leave me, Angel._

Wash the dishes,  fold the laundry, wonder if getting him a dog would somehow help. Dismiss the idea. Repeat.  _ How long can you keep this up?  _ Go into the room, crawl into the bed, wrap your arms around him and wonder if it is possible he lost weight.  _ We can't lose weight. What is going on? We aren't even human. Unless, we are?  _ Crowley shook the thought away, banishing it to the recesses of his mind. Everything they enjoyed was quite human, indeed. And now, as it were, so was everything they hated. Their pain, their problems, the silence.

“I love you,” he whispered into white curls as the Angel slept.  His arms tightened instinctively, as though if he didn't hold on,  Aziraphale would disappear.  In some ways he already had.

Just when Crowley thought he couldn't take it anymore, he awoke in the morning to an empty bed.  The shower was going, and despite knowing he couldn't die, Crowley checked on him just the same.  “You’re up.” Genius first words, Crowley, truly.

“I am,”  Aziraphale replied quietly, staring at the wall as the water streamed over his body.

“It helps if you use the soap.”

He almost smiled. Almost. “Ah, so that's how this works.”

“Breakfast?”

“Maybe.”

“I'll go make us something.” Maybe  wasn’t a no and this was the most  Aziraphale had spoken in weeks. Eggs Benedict with vanilla cream coffee sounded right for a morning such as this. It felt like a victory even though it was but a tiny step in the right direction. He was up, he was in the shower, he _ might  _ eat.  It felt like Armageddon avoided all over again. 

Crowley set the table as  Aziraphale made his appearance, dressed in nothing but a bathrobe  and hair still damp and  tousled. He could never look anything but beautiful to Crowley.  He sat in his appointed chair and stared blankly at his plate as Crowley poured the coffee.

“I don't think you can eat it through telekinesis, though I may be wrong,”  Crowley tried as he sat before him.

“Oh, right,” he lifted his fork without thought, the blankness still there. His cheeks lacked their usual  rosy puff and instead seemed sunken in. How could someone who slept for three weeks straight have bags under his eyes?

“I'm glad to see you up,”  Crowley said, exchanging his fork for a mug and watching his angel intently as he sipped.

Aziraphale just nodded. At least he was eating. Maybe they could talk about what happened. If it wasn't too soon. Crowley hadn’t even known, but if he had, could he have changed what happened? What miracle would've prevented this catastrophe between them? Would he have even known it was needed? Probably not. He probably would've gone to bed that night like all the others, except perhaps a little excited. Maybe his hands would've held his Angel’s belly all night. Maybe he would've smiled in his sleep. None of that would've prevented the horror he woke to, however. Nothing could've prepared him for the way Aziraphale screamed, or the ocean of blood upon the bed.

There was only so much a miracle could do. It could lift bloodstains from sheets. It could make it look like nothing ever happened. But it could not put their baby back inside his husband.  It couldn't take away the horror. It couldn't fix their brokenness. And it could not get  Aziraphale back again. 

“I'm sorry,”  Aziraphale’s words broke Crowley from his thoughts.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for, Angel.” He reached his hand across the table and held  Aziraphale’s .

“I didn't know. I didn't…”  his eyes searched the table.

“ Sh , Angel. ” Crowley squeezed the hand he held.

Aziraphale lifted heavy eyes to his husband, “You would've called him that too, wouldn't you?”

“It was a boy?” He hadn't known. He hadn't known anything. 

“Yes.” A single tear escaped him but he did not cry. 

“I would have,” Crowley acknowledged. He would've loved the little bugger. They would've had great adventures and drove Aziraphale crazy with their antics. He would've kissed scraped knees and stayed up all night when he ran fevers. If he ran fevers. Would he have run fevers? “When you’re feeling better, do you want to try again?”

“I don't know,  Crowley,” he looked at the floor. The first one was an accident. A glorious, wonderful accident. He'd  fall en asleep waiting for Crowley to come home so he could tell him. It wasn't fair, the way he found out. None of it was fair.

“When you're better, let's talk then,”  _ don't crush me, angel. _

Aziraphale nodded. Yes, when he was better. Whenever that was. Months from now, perhaps years. Maybe even never. Could he fly into the sun and hope to end it all? How did one kill an angel? Perhaps slowly, like this, through the loss of a child. _We will never be the same_ _,_ he thought as he stood to return to the bedroom. Not another word was spoken between them. No, he'd had enough for today.


	2. Nudes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is embarrassed to discover some private photographs of himself.

The next day he was up for just a little bit longer.  Making it to lunch as though staying awake until noon were like running a marathon. He still hid pain behind his eyes. He still couldn't really look at Crowley.  But he was up. For a little while, at least.

The day after that he tried to read a book but found he couldn't concentrate. Crowley never thought he'd see the day when  Aziraphale threw a book in anger. He picked it up, leaving the dent in the wall.  Crowley wondered what was so offensive about _ Of Mice and Men.  _ He didn't dare ask, however.

Slowly, day by day,  Aziraphale became more and more himself.  Of course, he wasn't his old self, no. That  Aziraphale was gone fever.  So was the old Crowley.  They were something else entirely. Two friends who were lovers who didn't know they longed to be parents.  Didn't know they were capable of such love or sorrow. 

“Do you want to go out today? Maybe stop by the book shop? Get something to eat?”  Crowley suggested. It was a beautiful day for February. Not too terribly cold and the sun was out to boot.

“No, I rather think I’d like to stay inside today,”  Aziraphale said. He couldn't explain to Crowley that he simply didn't have the energy.  It took it out of him just thinking about going out.  Sitting in his nook with tea and staring out the window would have to do for now. 

Crowley sighed and walked away. At least he could stay up all day. That was something.  Crowley made his way out the door after planting a kiss on white curls. The book store needed attention. It needed  Aziraphale’s touch. Everything was covered in dust at this point.  It looked as sad as  Aziraphale probably felt, Crowley imagined.  Perhaps he'd bring him back something sweet. Surprise him with a bouquet of roses and a nice red wine.  It was Valentine's day, after all. Perhaps participating in such a trite holiday was a waste of time. Then again, maybe it would give  Aziraphale a much needed reprieve from his thoughts. It was something to do, at least, and Crowley needed to keep busy. 

“Angel?” He wasn't in his nook and he wasn't in the bed.  _ Oh no.  _ Trying not to panic, he searched all over. 

“I'm in the attic.”

“What are you doing up there?”  He climbed the wooden ladder while wondering if it could really hold him. 

“I just…” he was sifting through their memories. Pictures, books, Knick knacks of all kinds.  Nearly 6,000 years of memories boxed up  there, collecting dust. 

“Some of these belong in a museum,” Crowley said as he inspected a gold staff with a snake head. It had emerald eyes and he wondered if it were fashionable now to bring it out again. It was quite a thing of beauty. A conversation starter too. Not that he needed one. Not that he spoke to anybody but Aziraphale anymore.

“Mmm, yes. Perhaps we'll make a donation,” the Angel mused. 

“Ah, look at this,” Crowley picked up a picture of the Angel’s bare, meaty backside as he watched the French sunrise from over their hotel balcony. _That_ was a memorable trip. They'd finally admitted their feelings, finally said fuck it, finally made love.

“Oh dear, why that's nearly pornographic!”  It was the most animated  Aziraphale had been in a while. His rosy cheeks blushed wildly as he tried to snatch the photo from his husband’s hands.

“I quite like it,”  Crowley said. “It’s nice. I'm keeping it,” he said as he hid it in one of his inside coat pockets.

Aziraphale rocked back onto his knees, looking sheepishly at Crowley. “Tell me that's the only one.”

“Well,” he rolled his head from side to side as he drug the word out and that's how  Aziraphale knew there were many,  _ many  _ more pictures.

“Just how many are there?”

“Well…”

“ Oh my,”  Aziraphale began digging through the box from whence the first picture came. To his horror and Crowley's amusement, there was quite the array of scandalous nudes. “Crowley!”

“What?  It's not like I published them online for the world to see. They're for me.”

Aziraphale hadn't always been the biggest fan of his body. Sure, it had held up well for 6,000 years and survived one almost apocalypse.  But it wasn't quite  _ ideal,  _ at least not by modern standards. In every picture his love handles and large thighs were on display. It seemed several were snuck while he was in the shower, even more while he slept.  Aziraphale furrowed his brow, “You _ like _ these?”

“I love them,” he said, snatching them away before  Aziraphale could destroy them. “They’re beautiful.”

Aziraphale pushed the box aside and crawled over to Crowley. He didn't need to ask to be held, his husband knew.  Crowley kissed his forehead and breathed in his sweet scent. “I love you.”

“I love you too,”  Aziraphale said, clinging to his husband, face buried in his chest. Turning his face upward, he said, “I think I’d like to try again.”

Those were the words Crowley had been waiting to hear.  They were sacred words, healing words, powerful words.  “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” It was all the explanation he would give. It was all that was needed.  They'd hold each other a while longer there in the attic, silent in their love.  Crowley would never feel more relieved to know they were finally out of the woods.

They hadn't made love in over two months. Crowley was desperate. Aziraphale giggled at him because it was obvious. He kissed those laughing lips to shut the Angel up. With a groan of satisfaction, he moved inside his husband, knowing there was no way outside a minor miracle that he was going to last. But this wasn't about lasting, no. This was about creating. This was about love and starting a family between two beings who didn't know it was possible until it was. “Oh, _Angel,”_ Crowley moaned. He found his lover overwhelming. In 6,000 years he'd never known anything better, and he knew he never would. 

He never could help that his black wings jutted out at the moment of climax. And  Aziraphale couldn't help that it always made him laugh.  They laid there together,  glistening in the pale moonlight, whispered 'I love  you’s ’ pass ing between them.  This was their moment of victory. They'd overcome the most difficult challenge of their lives,  the only fear left in not knowing if the Angel could carry a baby to term. Perhaps the first time wasn’t fluke . What if a half demon, half Angel child simply couldn't, or _ shouldn't _ , exist.

That didn't matter as Crowley carefully pulled out and held his lover. He'd protect this baby. He'd spend every last miracle he had making sure it survived.  Aziraphale may or may not have used one to make sure he conceived that night. He would never tell.  All he knew was that this time they were in it together, they were doing it on purpose,  and somehow that knowledge alone would change the outcome.


	3. Unexpectedly Expecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale wait on the results of a pregnancy test

Time continued onward and Aziraphale began smiling again. He still calculated how far along he'd be if he hadn’t lost the first one, but it didn't sting like it used to. The only thing that still bit him where it hurt was knowing that Crowley was an innocent bystander- turned- collateral damage in all this. He'd never mentioned wanting kids before because honestly, they didn't think that was a _thing._ Maybe it wasn't. Aziraphale couldn't help but wonder if they lost their child because it wasn't something that was _supposed_ to happen.

Now that they knew conception was at least possible, perhaps it was worth finding out if they could bring a baby to term. The excitement of trying again slowly overshadowed the sadness of the first loss and all that went with it. Besides, Crowley was once again fully satisfied with their sex life, and he was far less grumpy for it.

Two months into trying they were awaiting the results of a pregnancy test. “Won't you just snap your fingers already so we can know?”

“Half the fun is in waiting,” Aziraphale said cheerfully from his seat on the toilet.

“HaLf ThE fUn Is In wAiTiNg,” Crowley mocked, inciting a giggle from his husband. 

“Alright, check it for me. I can't  bear  to look,”  Aziraphale said.

Rolling his eyes, Crowley picked up the cheap plastic stick. “It's got two blue lines. What's two blue lines mean?”

“Oh, that's positive, dear.”

“P-p—what? So, it worked? You're- we’re- there's a baby in there? In you?” Crowley was still holding the stick, casually waiving it in the air as if it weren't soaked in urine.

Aziraphale laughed. “Yes, there's a baby in there.”

No joy had ever been more pure. No demon had ever danced, ever run through his apartment announcing to the plants and walls the good, good news. The whole world needed to know, according to Crowley. He was going to be a father. A _father._ “Oh, _fuck.”_ What a responsibility. Would he screw it up? The last time he’d had a baby in his hands, he royally fucked it all up. Never mind that. This was different. He wouldn't misplace his own child. How obnoxious.

“If I'm not mistaken, I might say you're a bit excited,” Aziraphale joked as he caught up to Crowley, who hadn't slowed down a bit in his celebration.

Grabbing his husband, Crowley planted a firm, wet kiss to his lips, “Let's go out tonight. Celebrate.”

“Alright, dear. Where to?”

“I think a new play has come out. Dinner first?”

“ Always .”

“Get dressed, Angel. We're going out!”

Of course, Crowley celebrated with a couple bottles of wine while  Aziraphale refrained. It was still amusing to watch his drunk husband dote on him. Drunk Crowley made all kinds of promises to change dirty diapers and other things he'd probably later forget. “I'll teach him to play catch. I should learn to play catch.”

With a giggle, “How do you know he's a he?”

“Is he not?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “He’s a she.”

“A she!” If Crowley could get more excited, he did. Squeezing Aziraphale’s hands and smiling ridiculously, “Oh, I can't wait. I am simply over the moon.”

“Well , you'd best come back down to Earth before we get kicked out. People are starting to stare.”

The remainder of the night consisted of Crowley being entirely too loud for all the places they went. Aziraphale laughed, people stared, and Crowley apologized when an attendant at the play asked him to quiet down. He managed to behave a _ little  _ better, but not by much. 

The walk home had them both stopping to vomit behind a tree : . Aziraphale because, well, welcome to pregnancy , and Crowley because he was drunk and watching his husband wretch caused his own. “We don't have to do _ everything _ together, you know,” Crowley said as he spat.

Aziraphale would've laughed but he was forced to dry heave a bit instead. Crowley placed a hand on his back, causing the feeling to pass. “Oh, that's much better. Thank you.”

“Any time, Angel. Let's go home.”

The months passed and Aziraphale’s belly grew. The first few weeks were spent rather sleepless, both fearing they'd wake up to another nightmare. They never did, and their anxieties gave way to excited anticipation. Crowley loved to put his hands on the growing stomach, feeling the kicks of their feisty little girl. He adored the way Aziraphale began to waddle, or how he seemed to fall asleep wherever he sat.

“The spare room will make a rather nice nursery,” Crowley mused as he looked over the space. He painted it a lovely lilac, filling it with stuffed animals, books, and a lovely crib. “What are we naming her?” He turned to his husband just to see him passed out in the comfy chair they'd bought for the room. “Oh, Angel.”

He pulled a blanket over his love and left him to rest. Maybe he'd think of a good name on his own. “Wonder how he'd feel about Carman?” Carman was supposedly the  C c eltic goddess of evil magic. “Hecate is nice. So is  Jahi . Or Nyx!” All these ideas were so good. He couldn't wait to run them by  Aziraphale .

When Aziraphale woke, however, he wasn't quite overjoyed with the thought of naming his baby something demonic. “I was thinking Ariel,” he said plainly, hands on his swollen belly.

“Lion of God, eh?” Crowley had to admit he liked the name. It was strong and beautiful, like their daughter would be. “Ariel then.” With a kiss to his angel husband, Crowley got to work creating a lovely wooden sign with her name painted across it to hang on her wall.


	4. Uninvited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley don't like their latest house guest...

Uninvited would be too polite a word to describe Gabriel's appearance in their home around  Aziraphale’s seventh month of pregnancy. Eyes wide, he placed a hand on his chest as he leaned back. “Holy _ crap  _ you’re fat,  Aziraphale . I told you not to eat so much human food!”

“I'm pregnant, you nitwit.”

“Sounds like a parasite. Is it a parasite?”

“The only parasite here is you, Gabe. What do you want?” Crowley said as he placed himself between the arrogant moron and his husband.

“I've come to collect the child. Is it here?” He looked around Crowley. 

_ How could he not know how this works?  _ Crowley simply rubbed his eyes, “She's not yet arrived. And what do you mean  _ collect?” _

“Well, a  child like that can't possibly remain here on Earth. That could be quite disastrous. She'd be taken to Heaven and raised there.” Gabriel spoke like this was all so obvious and good.

“You're not taking our child!” Aziraphale snapped, utterly perturbed by the notion.

“You need to leave,  _ now!” T _ he entire apartment shook as Crowley snarled out that last word and Gabriel took the hint. Once he'd vanished, Crowley turned to a very disturbed looking  Aziraphale . “I won't let anything happen to  her, I promise.”

They embraced and while Aziraphale believed him, he couldn't stop the overwhelming emotions. They took hold of him and he sobbed hard into Crowley's shirt. Crowley's anger bubbled just below the surface and he tightened his grip on his husband. Nobody threatened _ his _ Angel and got away with it. 

After a hot cup of tea calmed his nerves, Aziraphale felt composed enough to discuss a plan. He set his cup on the table and breathed in deeply as his husband quietly calculated in the chair across from him. “I think,” he started slowly, thoughtfully. “I think it's time we became  human .”

“Human?”

“Yes . , ” Crowley tilted his head up in thought. “They won't come after a human girl. And honestly, would they care to find us if we’re human?”

“Probably not. Can we undo it once it’s done?”

“I dunno,” Crowley said. “Does it matter?”

“A life without miracles. I don't know how we’ll get by.” Aziraphale was genuinely concerned, but Crowley wasn’t. He knew they'd be alright. “But we'll get old,” Aziraphale said.

“And we'll die,” Crowley mentioned. “But we'll be together. And we'll have _ her.”  _

Aziraphale held his protruding stomach and sat back in his chair. He was about to reply when the s udden urge to pee hit him and he launched himself from his chair as fast as he could. Crowley snickered at the way he waddled toward the bathroom. Oh, it never got old .

***

Baby Ariel was born into the world on January 9 th . She had bright red hair and golden eyes and screamed like the lioness she was. Aziraphale huffed and puffed as though his quick witted husband had not cut his labor pains with the help of a minor miracle or two. “She's stunning,” Aziraphale tearfully smiled.

“She is,” Crowley agreed, kissing his husband’s forehead. 

They rested together in their bed, Aziraphale and the baby both falling fast asleep after a successful first breastfeeding. It was something Crowley never thought he would find amazing after all that he had seen in his 6,000 years. Yet here he was, in awe of what they'd created together.

It was time to become human, he knew. It was good that his family was sleeping; it made things easier. Placing his hands on both of them, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Upon first glance, it would appear that nothing had changed. The only difference in Crowley were that his eyes now had a normal rounded pupil.

They'd prepared well in advance for this. Used their last miracles to summon a birth certificate for Ariel and ID for them, as well as stockpile money. They'd been looking at places in the countryside. The city was no place to raise a child. The most stunning cottage on five acres with a horse barn just happened to pop up for sale right after the owners had adamantly told them they'd never sell.  What good fortune, right?

Crowley didn't immediately feel the effects of the change. It wasn't until he saw all the half- packed boxes that he realized he couldn't snap his fingers and the packing would be done. And when he got hungry a couple hours into it, he realized he'd _have_ to eat to stay alive. And that drinking too much could kill him, and that he could no longer instantly sober up. “Whose shit idea was this anyway?”

“Yours, dear,” Aziraphale said from behind.

He turned and smiled. “What are you doing up?”

“She needed to eat and I needed to move,” he explained as the baby nursed. One final miracle Crowley had given them was to keep all of Aziraphale’s female parts intact. If they wanted to have another baby, they could.

Crowley walked over to them and gently stroked soft red hair before kissing his husband. “I never thought I could love someone more than you, but she's giving you a run for your money, Angel.”

“In that case, you can have the honor of changing her nappie . I'm sure it's splendid under there,”  Aziraphale smiled as he handed her over and righted his bathrobe.

Crowley blushed a bit as he took her. “I don't mind at all,” he huffed as he wandered toward the nursery and placed her on the changing table. “Dear _God!_ What—-what did she eat? It smells like week- old roadkill in here!” Ariel was startled by how loud her father was being and burst into tears, “Oh no, baby. I'm sorry, baby girl. Please stop crying. I didn't mean it.”

Aziraphale simply smiled as he sat and taped the top of a box shut. Ah, yes, Parenthood. The joy. He was quite sure Crowley would find a way to get him back for that, but for now he enjoyed a good chuckle. 

The sleepy, clean baby was passed back to the Angel, who stood and kissed his husband goodnight. It was almost certainly too much activity too soon after giving birth. He was sore _everywhere._ He snuggled the little one, sleep coming easily to him now. Eventually a Crowley- shaped creature would crawl into bed next to them, asleep last but up first to prepare them coffee and breakfast. 

Their little routine would be uprooted and taken to resume in the countryside. The cottage was perfectly quaint and stunning. Not too big, but not so small that they couldn’t grow their happy little family if they wanted. Bushes lined the front porch, leading down a cobblestone walkway to the gate at the street. The entire property was fenced in, the barn in the back well- maintained and matching the cottage’s paint job. It was a perfect place to raise their daughter. And with any luck at all, Gabriel would leave them alone. 


	5. Scary Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale talk about having another baby. Ariel has a secret visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for being so slow to update my fics. I've not been well.

Their baby was growing up far too fast. Her fiery curls tumbled down her back, golden eyes striking. She'd gone from standing to running, skipping the walking bit entirely. The clever girl took to stealing extra snacks and outrunning her daddy long enough to eat whatever it was she took. “Are you sure she's not half demon?” a breathless  Aziraphale asked as he scooped up the chocolate-covered  child .

“Oh no, she's definitely half-demon,” he winked at her and she giggled. Yes, if looks weren’t enough to convince somebody, then they'd know by her personality who her father was.

“That isn't funny. I don't need all of hell coming after our daughter,” Aziraphale huffed as he tried to clean her face. Ariel was quite uncooperative, effectually squirming out of her father's grasp.

“Nobody is coming after her, Angel,” Crowley assured, hands grasping his husband's shoulders. “And she's not a demon for stealing a chocolate bar. She's a _ child.  _ It's what they _ do.” _

Aziraphale accepted the kiss Crowley offered, though he was still a bit perturbed. It wasn't until Crowley pulled him into a tight embrace and began running teeth lightly over the pale flesh of his neck that he'd forgotten what he was on about. Their daughter would be fine with a bit of unsupervised playtime, they figured as the door to their bedroom was locked. Clothes slid onto the floor and flesh collided upon the bed. 

In an unusual show of aggression, Aziraphale pinned Crowley to the bed by his shoulders and straddled him. Crowley gulped, cock twitching with anticipation. Aziraphale’s mouth started at his husband's lips, then trailed downward, leaving little bites and marks along his neck. Crowley hissed and arched off the bed when his husband reached his nipples. “Ah! You tease me!” Crowley cried. He tried to lift his hands toward Aziraphale but the angel kept him pinned. It seemed he’d have to endure this wonderful torment.

Lifting his ass off Crowley a bit, Aziraphale rubbed his vulva against that weeping erection. “I want another baby,” he said as he teased his husband's cock, unpinning his arms so he was free to reciprocate now.

And reciprocate he did. Crowley wasted no time stroking Aziraphale’s hard cock in return. _I'll give you anything if you'll just sit on my fucking cock already!_ He grit his teeth as the pleasure mounted. “Why? Isn't one trouble enough?” _That's not what you're supposed to say, you idiot!_

Aziraphale stopped his rocking, genuinely disappointed in his husband's response. “You don't want more?”

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid! Tell him we’ll have all the babies! Tell him if he sits on your cock right now, you'll give him at least eight.  _ “Not really,”  _ WHAT IN THE FUCK, CROWLEY!? WHO EVEN ARE YOU RIGHT  _ _ NOW _ _? _

“Oh,” Aziraphale looked down. Dismounting, he said, “Suddenly I find myself not in the _ mood.”  _ He searched his clothes off the floor and began to dress.

Crowley cursed himself as he laid there, achingly hard and unsatisfied.  _ Why are you like this?  _ “Angel, don't go. Let's at least talk about it.”

“We just did. I'm going to check on Ariel.”

“ _ Fuck.” _

Eventually Crowley took care of his need himself and tried not to be bitter about it when he met his family downstairs. “We  _ do  _ need to talk, Angel.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale knew when Crowley was serious, and this was one of those times.

They sat at the same kitchen table they always sat at when having important discussions. Usually, they enjoyed conversing over food, but that wasn't happening today. Crowley seemed lost in thought as his gaze strayed over to where their daughter sat as she played on the floor. “My fear is that this will all come to an end one day,” He began, eyes trailing back to Aziraphale. “That one day we'll be an angel and demon again and she'll be… whatever she is. But if we have a child now who's human  _ as  _ humans, there's nothing for him to change into.”

“The likelihood of that is slim, dear. Besides, what's so wrong with having a human child?”

Crowley wanted to be surprised his husband didn't get it, but he wasn't. He sighed, “He or she will die one day. What if we don't? Do you really want to live the next six thousand years mourning the loss of _ another  _ child? One we knew? One we raised and loved and made memories with?”

“Oh. I see your point.” Aziraphale grew silent. He wanted another child but he couldn't endure the pain of losing it. Crowley was right. The lifespan of a human was a drop in the bucket, and if they ever turned back into immortal beings, there was nothing they could do about their mortal child. “Couldn't we just become mortal  again ?”

“In theory. But what if we couldn't? Stranger things have happened.” Crowley didn't know how to explain all the ways losing that first baby broke him. He couldn't go through that again.  _ Please, Angel. Please understand. _

Aziraphale nodded. One child it was. He was alright with that, when all was said and done. She was a handful anyway. He smiled over at her, the smile fading when he realized she was ripping the stuffing from her little stuffed rabbit. “Dear, what are you doing?” He asked as he made his way over to her.

“Bunny is bad.” She'd completely decapitated the thing and was furiously unstuffing it.

Crowley graced them with his presence and smiled, hands in his pockets. “You know, I never do worry about you cheating on me. I never do wonder whose child that is.”

Aziraphale could've choked his husband. Was he _ proud?  _ The child was psychotic. “Sweetie, we don't hurt others, no matter what they do, ok?” He knelt on the floor, “What did Bunny do to make you so mad?”

“He lies.  The man with purple eyes told me. ”

That got Crowley’s attention. He was on his knees in a flash. “What else did he tell you?”

“I  dunno ,” she shrugged, “We go bye-bye soon.”

Aziraphale could've fainted. They'd given up their powers to protect their daughter. Now was a really good time to have those powers back. What were they going to do? Slowly pulling what was left of Bunny from her hands, Aziraphale gathered his daughter in his arms. He shook, and Crowley encompassed them both. “I won't let him take her,” he whispered. “I promise.” 

It wasn't every day that Crowley lied to Aziraphale. In fact, he tried desperately to avoid doing so. However, in this moment, it seemed necessary. He had no idea what the hell he was going to do, but he couldn't let Aziraphale fall apart. Not now. Not when he needed him most.


	6. Crowley's Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Gabriel's threat becomes real, Crowley makes a difficult decision for his family

While initially they were terrified, the feeling of dread quietly dissipated over time. They were engrossed in their routine and keeping up with a rambunctious toddler took all of their attention and energy. “They built a new park in town. Why don't you join me and Ariel in going to check it out?”

Crowley looked up at  Aziraphale from where he lazed upon the couch. He'd been hoping to get good and drunk while the other two were out and pass out early. “Eh, alright.” Some sun would do him good anyway, he figured. 

“Oh, good!”  Aziraphale clapped his hands together joyfully, their daughter imitating the gesture behind him.

“You are both too much,” Crowley groaned as he stretched. He shoved his feet in his less than pristine sneakers he wore for such occasions and reached for the keys to their reasonably priced SUV. Sure, Crowley hated the thing, but they needed a safe car for the kid.

“Oh, it's within walking distance so no need for that,”  Aziraphale smiled.

Crowley grumbled and wondered why he agreed to this. Aziraphale had a tendency to helicopter Ariel when she played and it drove him batty. The guy had already smothered her in half a bottle of sunscreen and packed a diaper bag that would sustain their daughter through an apocalypse. 

It was cute, however, to watch him push the  stroller  pram  down the side walk and point out every bird that chirped or flew by.  _ This _ is why he decided to tag along. His little family breathed new life into him at every turn .

The park was cute, too. The playground was small but safe for young children like  Ari e a l. Benches lined the perimeter, canopies overhead for shade. Plenty of shrubbery had been planted along the walkway , too. It was honestly a nice little park. Crowley slouched on a bench and sighed, “Land your helicopter, Angel!”

Aziraphale ignored him, but a young mother with her two kids smiled . , “That's a sweet nickname for your husband.”

Crowley smiled, “Thank you.”

“I'm  Dezzy . Is she your first?”

“Yes.”

Dezzy nodded, “I don't know if you two plan to have more, but , usually , when there’s more than one kid, the more anxious parent calms down a bit . , ” She winked and walked off to pull whatever her son had started to eat off the ground out of his mouth.

He sighed.  _ If only it were that easy.  _ They both wanted more ; , it just wasn't safe. He wasn't sure that it ever would be. He smiled despite his worried thoughts as his two favorite people made their way over. “She wants a snack and for Daddy to swing with her.”

Crowley nodded. He could do that. Hell, whatever she wanted, he'd give her. Sometimes he wished he could still do minor miracles just to entertain her. Yet it seemed she was just as satisfied being pushed on the swing. Maybe being human wasn’t so bad.

The day drew to an end without incident and Crowley carried a sleeping Ariel back home at dusk. It was dinner time and they were both getting hungry. With one hand free as his daughter drooled on his chest, Crowley reached for  Aziraphale’s hand. “He would've turned two this month.”

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand but remained silent.

“Do you think of him?”

“Every day.”

They were quiet as they watched the sun begin its descent, orange and pink stretching across the sky. Everything felt alright for the first time in a long time. They felt like they had healed and were somehow closer now than they were before. The threat of Gabriel was all but forgotten until they opened their front door and found him standing inside their house. “You lost the weight,  Aziraphale ! Now you're back to your pudgy self.”

Once the shock faded, anger boiled over.  Aziraphale balled his fists and screamed, face red and spitting, “For the last time, I was _ pregnant _ _ , _ you fucking dimwitted twat!”

Surprised, Crowley turned to his husband . , “Nice.”

“Insult me all you want. You know you're powerless to stop me.” The smug bastard smiled, crossing his arms.

_ No.  _ Panicked,  Aziraphale turned to see his daughter fading from Crowley's grasp into thin air. As  Aziraphale screamed, Crowley lunged at Gabriel but he easily dodged him. “I'll be back for the other one,” he said as he vanished.

Aziraphale stood stock still and Crowley looked up from where he crashed, “ Other one !?” 

They both scrambled off the floor and raced to the bathroom, throwing cabinets open and digging through toiletries. “Aha!”  Aziraphale held the box up triumphantly. 

“Fucking piss on it already!” Crowley snapped, frantic.

Aziraphale ripped open the packaging and scrambled to the toilet. Crowley gave him privacy as he sat on the floor in complete bewildered shock. Their daughter had _ just _ been taken from them and they were about to find out…

“ _Holy shit! Crowley, I'm pregnant_ _!_ _”_ Aziraphale screamed.

Crowley thought he'd pass out. This couldn't be happening. How was this happening? He stared at  Aziraphale , who was now sobbing on the bathroom floor, test still in hand. The instinct to protect his family was raging within him, but he was a _ failure.  _ He couldn't protect his daughter, or his husband, or this new baby. Or _ could  _ he?

Crowley stood without a word and walked out, leaving his sobbing husband behind. Grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door, he got in the Bentley and tore out of the driveway.  Aziraphale could be seen in his rearview mirror, waving his hands as he stopped at the end of the drive. He looked confused, betrayed. Crowley tore his eyes from his husband for fear he'd turn around. He needed to fix this, and in order to fix this, he needed to do something he couldn't let  Aziraphale see. He needed to  die .


	7. In Death Do We Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley kills himself to save his family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye there's suicide so this is your warning!

With the hotel door locked, Crowley took off his jacket and tossed it on the bed. Rolling up his sleeves, he sighed. The bathtub was a little cramped but it would do. Maybe it was some form of irony that the knife he'd use was a relic from days long past, a gift from the only one he'd ever love. There was a time, years ago, when he thought they'd have forever. Only recently did he realize that they only had now, and that's all they ever really had. “I'm sorry, Angel,” he whispered, wincing as he dragged the blade down his arm. The blood thinners he took earlier would help the process. It would all be over  soon . 

6,000 years was a long life to flash before someone's eyes as they died. But oh, was his beautiful. That smile, that laugh. The joy, the pain, the triumph. All of it playing before him like a movie. “Angel…” He could barely whisper it as he closed his heavy eyes.

“What the _ fuck,  _ Crowley!?” The familiar voice was abrasive and not at all the one he longed to hear.

“ Azrail ,” he slurred.

Standing over the tub, the Angel took a drag of his cigarette. “I didn't take you for the suicidal type. I like it.”

“I'm glad you approve.” Crowley's head lolled a bit. “Hey, can I  bum one of those off you?”

“I thought the husband disapproved?”

“I'm dead, Azrail. I somehow don't think it matters.”

The Angel shrugged and handed him a cigarette, which he promptly dropped. “Oh, I think you cut too deep,” he said as he fished the cigarette from the blood.

“Fuck it,” Crowley slurred. “You owe me. I came to collect.”

“And here I thought you were visiting because you missed me.”  Azrail faked a pout as he put his cigarette out on the vanity.

“Cut the shit, Az.”

“What do you want?”

“To be a demon again.”

“So, about that…” Azrail kneeled, crossing his arms on the tub, “I can do that for you but you won't be able to go back to Earth.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “ Them’s the rules. You can visit both heaven and hell though. I'm guessing what you're looking for is hidden somewhere behind the pearly gates.”

“I swear to Satan of you know where she is—“

“I don't. But , I  _ am  _ curious to see this all go down, so I'm going with you.” Azrail smiled, his silver eyes shining like a sharp blade glinting in the sun.

“You’re a real creep, you know that?” 

“Thanks.” Azrail leaned back and cracked his knuckles. “Alright old friend. Hold still.”

“I literally can't move.”

“Ssshhhh.” Azrail placed a hand over Crowley's face and he'd never wanted to punch his old friend so hard. 

Azrail closed his eyes, and as though time were moving backwards, the blood was sucked back up into Crowley’s arms and the wounds zipped shut. For the finale, Crowley gasped and arched his back, wide eyed as his wings returned in all their blackened glory. Crowley sat up and grimaced.  “I'm going to need to change my pants . ”

“Too much info, dude. Too much,” Azrail said as he backed away from the demon.

It was a shame that his first miracle as a demon again was cleaning up his own come stain. Nobody had to know, right? He stood, clean once again, and stepped out of the tub. “Alright, take me to heaven.”

“You said that so romantically—“

“Shut the fuck up and do it, Az. You're wasting time.” This particular Angel could be so frustrating. Then again, so could  Aziraphale . Wait, were _ all _ angels horribly frustrating? Now that he'd thought about it, yes, he decided, they were. And the one they were searching for was the worst of them: Gabriel.

They landed in the cloudy, light, bright realm and looked around. They hadn't been spotted, so that was good.  Azrail was lighting up another—no, wait. This one was a joint. “Really, Az?”

“What? It helps with my nerves.  Judgey .” He took a long drag and offered it to Crowley, who simply glared at him.  Azrail just shrugged. More for him. “So,” he said as he blew smoke rings. Or, tried to. “I think we're going to need the help of my friend. Gabriel has a few tricks up his sleeve, but so does this guy.”

“Do I know him?”

“No, you haven't met. You'll like him though,” And with that, Azrail began walking toward a golden city in the distance. 

“What's his name?” Crowley asked as he followed.

“Phil.”

“Short for Philip?”

“No. Short for Nephilim.”

_ Oh.  _ Crowley had only known one Nephilim in his entire life, and that was his own daughter. They were quite rare, and he didn't think one would take up residence in heaven easily. He wondered why this one had. Maybe he was torn from his parents too? If so, he would hopefully understand Crowley’s resolve and join his cause.

It seemed unreasonable to him that they should have to walk so much in the kingdom of Heaven . Why couldn't they just instantly transport everywhere? And how could his legs and feet possibly ache so damn much? Wasn’t this supposed to be the _ good _ place? A place with no pain? 

Finally, they came to what seemed like a sort of heavenly hotel with a restaurant of sorts inside. Crowley rolled his eyes, “Harps and Halo’s? Really?”

Azrail looked over his shoulder at his friend, “They serve good ale.”

“Ale? Who calls it that?” he complained as he followed  Azrail inside.

Apparently what Azrail considered _good ale_ was fucking horrendous golden colored crap to Crowley. At least he was able to get off his feet. Apparently Azrail had sent some sort of message to this Phil guy and he’d be meeting them there. Crowley looked around, wishing he could get drunk but unable to stand the taste of anything they served. _Because I'm a demon, probably._ With the help of a minor miracle, he was able to subtly change his drink to something far better. _Probably shouldn't get wasted. Oh, wait. I can sober up instantly. I forgot._ With a big smile, he downed the first pint and asked for another. He garnered a few looks, but he wasn't the first demon on task in Heaven. They minded their own business. 


	8. Phil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Azrail meet up with Phil

“How long before he's here? Feels like it's been ages,” Crowley slurred, swaying in his seat. The other patrons at the bar were a blur in the background by now. He lifted one crooked finger to signal his desire for another round. The irritated bar tender served him begrudgingly.

“He should be here any minute.”  Azrail gave him a  sideways glance . “You really _ cannot  _ hold your liquor, can you?”

“Not a drop.”

Crowley swayed again and lost balance, falling backwards off the bar stool. Strong arms caught and righted him with ease. “Easy there, little fella!” a young, jovial sounding voice said from behind.

Turning to see who’d just saved him from certain embarrassment, Crowley’s hazy eyes landed on a strapping young lad with white curly hair and a sweet smile.  “Angel?” he asked, confused.

“Nephilim, actually.” 

“Ah, yes, that's right.” It was time to sober up. He was seeing things. The taste it left in his mouth was terrible, but other than that, he had to admit he felt much better. Looking up at the obscenely tall young man again, he realized he hadn’t been hallucinating after all. “Who are your parents?”

“No  clue ,” he smiled, blue eyes shining. “Why do you ask?”

“You just remind me of someone I know, that's all.” The resemblance to  Aziraphale was uncanny. Could they somehow have been related? Phil looked like he was in his early twenties but he could be hundreds of years old, even thousands. Oh well, it was a mystery for another day, he thought. Right now he needed to get his daughter back. “Anyway, down to business and all that. My daughter Ariel was kidnapped by Gabriel. We've come to get her back. Care to help?”

“I'm down. I hate that guy anyway,” Phil said with nonchalance, arms now crossed.

_ Angels aren't supposed  _ _ to—oh _ _ , that's right.  _ _ Half _ _ - _ _ demon _ _.  _ “Yes, me too. Obviously.”

“I know where he is. And while I don't know where he's keeping the girl, I can find out .” Phil flashed that winning smile again and Crowley thought he'd fall right off his seat.

Azrail had been silent throughout this entire exchange, silly smile on his face like he knew a  secret . “ A’right . Let's go then. Lead the way , ole Phil!”

“Sober up first,” Crowley suggested.

“Mmmmm nope. I like the way I feel.” He swayed as he stood and he finished his last sip. Several heads turned when he slammed his glass on the bar. When they realized who it was, all the heads turned away without care.

“Why do you always have to be fucked up?” Crowley was irritated with his old friend by now.

Phil leaned down toward Crowley . “You'd be that way too if your lot in life was watching people die  every day and taking them wherever they belong.”

Crowley nodded, “Good point.”

They exited the heavenly bar and continued on their way.  Azrail stumbled a bit and at one point fell off the shiny golden road entirely , disappearing into the clouds below. When asked if he’d be  okay , Phil assured Crowley that  Azrail was fine and would be back. Eventually. They chatted a while longer, and even some of Phil's mannerisms reminded him of  Aziraphale . “You must be related to  Aziraphale ,” Crowley finally said.

“Who?”

“My husband. Hang on, I have a picture of him,” Crowley said as he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pulled out a small picture of his love and looked at it a moment. In the background was the bookshop and  Aziraphale was smiling so cutely for the picture. Crowley's heart melted. Passing it to Phil, he said, “Him. He's the best thing that ever happened to me, you know.”

“Maybe we’re cousin ’ s?” Handing the picture back, he shrugged, “I don't know, I never met my parents. Don't know much about them really.”

“Hey guys! Wait up!”  Azrail called as he flew in, dark wings stirring up a wind.

“So nice of you to join us,” Crowley said, hands on his hips as he and Phil came to a stop.

“Hey, at least I'm mostly sober now.”

Crowley didn't respond. How were they going to rescue his daughter with a useless lush and an overgrown marshmallow? This kid was huge but he was _ definitely _ more Angel than demon. His only hope was in trusting that  Azrail wasn’t full of shit about this kid being special. Maybe it just took a lot to see his demonic side.

The small cluster of awkwardly tall towers was now visible in the distance. It almost felt like they were crossing a sort of golden desert. “Alright, so, stay here and let me go in and talk to my friend first,  okay ?” Phil said when they arrived at the tall, obnoxious skyscraper that was Gabriel's place of 'business’. 

Crowley nodded and the two watched him walk off.  Azrail lit up another cigarette, offering it to Crowley. He accepted. “So where did you find this one?”  h H e asked after a long drag.

Azrail took back the cigarette, “I brought him here not long ago, actually.”

Crowley's brows furrowed as he took the cigarette back from his friend. “So you knew his parents?”

“Yes.” His turn to smoke now, “They're good friend ’ s of mine.”

That's when it hit Crowley like a fucking freight train full of very sharp objects. He choked on his last drag and coughed, nearly burning himself. Doubled over, he glared at  Azrail , “You knew this whole time he was my _ son  _ and you said  _ nothing _ _?! _ _!? _ _ ” _

“I thought for sure you'd figure it out the moment you met,”  Azrail defended.

“How is he in his twenties? Or whatever? He died like two and a half years ago.” Crowley straightened up now. He needed answers. Or to choke  Azrail out. Maybe both.

“Minor miracles are, well, miraculous.”  Azrail grinned as though what he'd said was quite clever.

“I hate you sometimes,” Crowley grumbled. Fists balled. “Does he know who I am?”

“No.”  Azrail turned and saw Phil was on his way back to them. “You two should have a talk. I think I'm going to go for a stroll. I'll be back.” 

For a moment Crowley watched the dark angel wander off as though this were a regular Sunday picnic and not the strangest turn of events that could've possibly occurred.  _ Fuck's sake,  _ Crowley thought as he ran a hand through his hair nervously. 

“Where’s he off to?” Phil asked as he stopped in front of Crowley.

All Crowley could do, however, was gape up at him. 

“Uh, you ok ay ?” Phil waved a hand in front of Crowley's glazed over face.

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. Yup, I'm fine.” Crowley took a deep breath and looked around like that would help. All he saw were endless miles of clouds and golden roads leading to boring places he didn't much care to visit.

“You don't look  fine ,” Phil said.

Looking back at Phil, Crowley took a deep breath and deflated a bit, “Yeah, that's because I'm not. Look, we uh, we need to talk.” He scratched the back of his head as Phil patiently waited for him to speak. He even stood with his hands folded in front of himself like his father did. Crowley rubbed his eyes:, _now or never_ _._ _,_ “The uh, the reason you look so much like my husband is because you're our son, Phil.”

“What?” A look of shock came over Phil's face and he stepped back from Crowley. “But you — \-  you abandoned me. Why do you care now?”

“We didn't abandon you. Oh, we could never do that,” Crowley felt hot tears sting the back of his eyes. “You died, Phil. Before you were born. We didn't even get to hold you. We — - “

Before he could utter another word, Phil enveloped his father in a warm, strong embrace. The demon sobbed openly, grasping at his son's shirt in a feeble attempt to remain upright. His knees buckled, but Phil held him up with ease.

For the first time in his short life, Phil felt the emptiness in his heart fading. He'd always wanted to know his parents, know what happened. He wasn't readily accepted in either  H eaven  n or  H ell because of his  _ special  _ pedigree, as  Azrail liked to put it. At least in  H eaven he wasn't openly chastised like in  Hell . 

Crowley straightened up and pulled away, Phil letting him go but ready to grab him up again just in case. Crowley smiled up into that sunny face so reminiscent of his husband. “We never got over you.” 

Phil wiped his own eyes, smiling. He'd never known such love before. “I don't know what to say.”

“Say your friend is letting us in,”  Azrail said as he flew up and landed before them.

“Oh, yes. Gabriel isn't here right now , so we can sneak in without his knowledge and surprise him.”

“Let's go,” Crowley growled low, his resolve restored.  Azrail was right, Phil was special. Crowley would be getting back his whole family today and destroying the enemy once and for all.


	9. Of Heaven and Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley continues his adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to update with two chapters in honor of Micheal Sheen's birthday!

Phil's friend was a skinny, much shorter angel with messy brown hair. He blushed a bit as they walked by and Phil told them he'd catch up.  _ Oh, he's not just a friend, is he?  _ Crowley smiled knowingly to himself. He knew true love when he saw it.

“Thanks babe,” Phil whispered with a quick kiss to that perfect mouth he loved so much.

“Be careful, okay?” the little angel known as Cam said.

Phil winked back at him as he jogged off and Cam thought he'd melt into a puddle. He pressed cold fingers to his cheeks to tame the blush, but it was no use. He was in love with a  nephilim —a gorgeous one at that. Other angels might consider it taboo, but the sex was _ mind-blowing.  _ Maybe it was the demon in him, he wasn't sure. But there's no way an angel alone could do the things his  nephie did.

It took no time for Phil to catch up to the other two. Nobody said a thing about the _obvious,_ and instead focused on the task at hand. According to Cam, Gabriel had an entire prison full of nephilim children. The goal was to brain wash them and create his own army for the second Armageddon. According to Gabriel, nephilim were dangerous, possessing the full powers of both their angelic and demonic heritage. On top of that tremendous power, they had no obligation to either side, and therefore followed no rules. 

“Fuck  _ me,”  _ Crowley muttered in shock when they stumbled upon a floor of the building that was nothing but cells holding hundreds of children. The cells were stacked to the ceiling, which towered high above them. The children were beautiful, but he didn't see Ariel. Many of them could be heard weeping quietly, and it broke the heart ’ s of all three of the guys who’d stumbled upon them.

Crying her name as he ran, Crowley franticly searched for her among the cages. Black wings shot from his back and he launched into the air, searching through miserable, dirty faces and tears. The cages were very small, all the children cramped and unable to sit up straight.  _ How could torment like this go on in Heaven of all places? _

Azrail and Phil began systematically setting the children free, miraculously flinging open doors. Some of the more timid children had to be carried out, held for a moment before they understood this was real freedom. Others ran and flew, joyfully escaping their hell. 

“She’s not here!” Crowley called down to them, more panicked than ever. He was all but backed against the ceiling, shaking with anger and fear.

“That’s because  _ I  _ have her!” Gabriel boomed as he descended upon them, smiling stupidly, holding the softly sleeping redheaded babe.

“You give her to me _ now!”  _ Crowley snarled, shooting down to the floor and landing with a loud boom, his forked tongue threatening a sting of venom.

“Why would I do that?” Gabriel laughed as though returning a child to her parents was outrageous. “I do have to admit she certainly lacks discipline. I think she's got a bit more Crowley in her than  Aziraphale .”

“She's not even two, you imbecile. Of course she's all over the place.”  _ Why am I discussing my toddler with this asshole?  _

Crowley prepared to charge the angel, fists balled as he screamed, spit flying as he ran head long toward the angel. Since Crowley obviously didn't have his faculties present, Azrail snapped his fingers and baby Ariel appeared in his arms just as Crowley tackled Gabriel. 

They crashed into the cages behind them with a clatter, the metal bending beneath the weight of Gabriel’s body. Crowley morphed into to a snake and constricted around the  angel ’ s neck. Gabriel's eyes bulged, bloodshot as he clawed at the snake. 

Getting a decent grip around the scaly creature, Gabriel tore Crowley from his neck and slung him hard across the room. Crowley slammed against some cages and hit the floor, where he twitched, but did not move otherwise.

“Dad!” Phil shrieked as he raced over to his father’s limp body.

“Dad?” Gabriel questioned as he stood and straightened out his suit as though being attacked were nothing. A smug grin cursed his lips once again as he sauntered over to where Phil kneeled, the heels of his boots echoing as they clacked against the hard floor. “Oh, this just keeps getting better. How many children can one demon _possibly_ have?”

Phil held the limp snake in his hands as he sobbed.  He'd _ just _ gotten his father back. It was too much to take. Standing slowly, shoulders heaving as he gently set the snake down, Phil wiped his tears with a harsh drag of his hand. Turning toward Gabriel, he stepped forward, his sheer mass blocking both Crowley and  Azrail from anything Gabriel might try. “You _ bastard!”  _ he screamed, his voice changing to something horrifying, silver wings bursting into wild flames that shot up his back and replaced his gentle white curls with wicked, wild fire. His eyes glowed like the sun, and he seemed to grow in size but perhaps it was just the flames licking at the air. 

In his hands , he drew a blade made entirely of light, and Gabriel trembled in fear as he gazed up at the  nephilim towering above him. Phil embodied everything he feared about them. “Oh,  fu —“ His last words remained unfinished as the blade sliced through him effortlessly, turning him to ash and then  nothing . 

When Phil turned back around, flames dying as he returned to his normal size, he was relieved to see Crowley in his human form. He was still laid out, Azrail kneeling by him, Ariel awake and reaching for her daddy. Crowley was conscious and groaning on about a terrible head ache. “Somehow, baby kisses make it all better,” he said as he took Ariel in his arms and sat up. She grabbed his cheeks and smushed his face a bit as she kissed his forehead. 

“Let's get her home,”  Azrail nearly whispered it as he patted his old friend’s back.

Looking up at his son, Crowley said, “Your name is Nuri.” 

“What?” He seemed confused. “My name is Phil. How hard did you hit your head?”

“No. Your name is not Phil. I did not give you that name. I would've never given you that name.”

Phil was silent upon seeing how serious his father was. After a moment, he asked, “What's it mean?”

“It means  ‘ flaming  lights ’ in Hebrew. It would seem we finally know where  Aziraphale’s sword  went ,” he chuckled but Nuri didn't seem to follow. “It's in you, Nuri. The power of the flaming sword. You have it. You _ are _ it.”

Phil, now Nuri, had always wondered where his powers came from. Now he knew they were a gift from his father. It was quite the act of love on  Aziraphale’s part. He knew he'd get in trouble for misplacing his sword again. But what  Aziraphale didn't tell anybody, not even Crowley, is that he'd sent it with their son when he died. Somehow , he knew his son would live on in Heaven and would need something to protect him. Nuri had never gone a single day without his father's love; he just didn't know it until right then.


	10. Newt and Anathema Save the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale calls on his old friends for help

Back on Earth,  Aziraphale had traced his husband’s credit card activity to a hotel not far from where they lived. His suave detective skills didn't stop there; he managed to get the manager to let him into the room. That's where  Aziraphale now found himself holding Crowley's lifeless body just outside the tub. He sobbed as he rocked back and forth. It was like he didn't even realize blood was absolutely everywhere, staining his good suit. 

Once the manager who'd brought him up stopped shaking, he called for help. The medical team literally pried  Aziraphale away as he scrambled on blood slicked tile to keep hold of his husband.  Aziraphale had effectively lost his mind, and emergency services did all they could to keep him calm. 

Police wouldn't get much from him as he stared blankly ahead and mumbled nonsense about angels and demons. After refusing hospitalization, he was given an escort home. He didn't remember the ride, or walking inside his cottage, or sitting down in his big chair in the living room. It felt like he'd somehow appeared there magically. Was it all a dream? No, it wasn't. Simply looking down at his ruined clothing told him that. 

“Oh dear.”  Aziraphale stood and made his way to the laundry room. He wasn't thinking about the dry clean only tags on his clothing, only that it needed to come off. Looking closer at his shaking hands, he noticed crusty bits of dried blood under his cuticles and nails. “This simply won't do. It won't do at all,” he said absently to himself. 

It wasn't until he felt the hot sting of the water on his skin that he was shocked back into reality. He didn't remember coming upstairs or starting the shower, but now that he was here, he couldn't stop sobbing. He placed his hands around his soft belly and tried to convince himself that he could do this alone.  _ But I'm not alone. Not really.  _ He had Anathema and Newt. They were only a phone call away. 

Ever so slightly encouraged, Aziraphale got out of the shower and wrapped himself in his fluffy robe. He wasn't quite sure where he'd placed his cell phone, but a quick search found it laying on the nightstand. He didn't recall placing it there. Honestly, life was easier when phones were stationary landlines you couldn't misplace. How Crowley talked him into a smart phone was beyond him. He'd gotten on just fine without one for 6,000 years!  _ Anyway,  _ he thought as the phone rang. It went to voicemail. “You’ve reached the Pulsifer ' s…”

“Ah, yes. Um, hello. It's, it's ah- Aziraphale. Um, if you could, uh, call me back, please. If you don't mind. That would be splendid. Ok now, goodbye.” He hung up and stared at the phone. Could he have left a more ridiculous message? _Get it together, old boy_ _._

Looking around his dark and empty room, it seemed to him that the only logical thing left to do was crawl in bed and not get out. That seemed to work just fine the last time. Although, last time he had Crowley there to care for him. As he pulled the covers up to his chin , he wondered if he'd just let himself die this time without his husband there to help.  _ No,  _ he thought. He cared too much about the baby inside him to give up just yet. It was all he had left of his love. Besides, things would be better once his friends arrived.

Aziraphale dreamed a strange enough dream but really it wasn't a dream at all. It was a memory, one that had been sealed away. Now that Gabriel had been destroyed there was no reason for this memory to remain suppressed. In this memory-dream, Crowley was sleeping soundly next to him in the bed. He'd awoken to a soft and familiar voice. “ Azrail ? Why are you here?”

His old friend seemed sad. “You know why, Azzie.” 

Aziraphale stood, his face falling. “But I don't want him to go.”

“I know. Would you like to say goodbye?” Minor miracles for the Angel of Death were a little different from his light- hearted counterparts. In his arms appeared a fully formed baby who was at least a few months old. The blue- eyed, chubby babe smiled and blew bubbles as he looked up at Azrail. 

The Angel of Death handed the baby over, and  Aziraphale cried quietly as he kissed his baby’s head. “I love you so much,” he said. The baby giggled as he squeezed  Aziraphale's thumb. With a shuddering breath, he handed over his son. “Take my sword and use it to protect him, please,”  Aziraphale said as the flaming sword appeared.

“I will do all I can. He's safe with me, you know that,” Azrail said as he sheathed the sword. “I will hide him from those who wish to do him harm. You have my word.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale wiped his face with his hands and stepped back.

“You'll go back to sleep now, alright? You won't remember this when you wake up. It's for the best,” Azrail explained. He didn't need Gabriel learning the truth about this baby by reading Azzie's mind or something.

“Yes, I understand. Goodbye.,” Aziraphale lifted a few fingers in a half- hearted farewell and watched as they disappeared, forgetting immediately what had just happened. “What am I doing out of bed?” Smiling and shaking his head to himself, he pulled back the sheets and fell asleep, none the wiser.

Once Azrail returned to Heaven with the child, he hid the sword inside him so nobody knew his connection to Aziraphale, then gave him an adult body and mind. Gabriel was after impressionable children, so he'd leave a grown Nephilim alone. Now it was simply a waiting game to see what happened next. Somehow, Azrail knew it wouldn’t be long before this family was reunited.

Aziraphale startled awake and wiped the drool from his mouth. _That dream…_ _oh my God._ Suddenly the pieces fell together where they hadn't before. Someone was banging rather loudly on his front door, pulling him from his thoughts. “Alright, alright! I'm coming!” he called as he tied his robe around his waist and stormed down the stairs in a hurry. Peering through the peep hole in his front door, he whispered, “Anathema?”

Upon opening the door, she seemed relieved that he was alright. “We tried calling. I got worried. You didn't sound right in your message.”

“Come in, please.” He opened the door and stepped aside. Newt nodded as he walked by and Anathema stopped to hug him. “I'm so glad you're here. Something terrible has happened.”

Anathema knew that for her friend, 'something terrible’ ranged from facing the actual apocalypse to a restaurant not carrying his favorite wine. So, she may or may not have been prepared to hear Aziraphale say, “Crowley is dead.”

“What?” She stumbled back into her husband, who caught her. He too seemed shocked.

“Yes. See , Gabriel abducted our child,” he began , trying to explain as he led them to his kitchen table. “Tea?”

“You just told us your husband is dead and your child was taken. Is this really the time for tea?” Anathema asked.

“Oh, I would rather like some,” Aziraphale said shyly.

“Me too, actually. Do you have chamomile?” Newt asked as he glanced back at his wife before smiling at Aziraphale. “Please, continue.”

“Right. So, Ariel was taken and then we discovered I'm expecting again—“

“YOU’RE WHAT?”

Aziraphale placed his kettle on the stove and looked over at his shocked guests, “Yes, well, we were quite surprised too. We've been using protection , so honestly , I just don't know where we went wrong—“

“You're rambling,” Anathema politely redirected her friend.

“Right. Sorry.” He grabbed mugs from the cupboard and set them on the counter. “Sugar? Milk? Honey?”

“I take  mine plain,” Newt  said.

“Very good,” he nodded as he poured, “So, anyway, without even discussing it with me, Crowley decides to go off and slit his wrists. The bastard.”

“HE KILLED HIMSELF?!”

“Yes, well, it was for a very good reason. He needed Azrail’s help getting Ariel back.”

“Ah.” It was coming together for Anathema.

“Who's Azrail?” Newt asked.

“Angel of Death,” Anathema explained. Turning back to  Aziraphale , who was bringing over the tea, she said, “How can we help you?”

Aziraphale sat at the table and Anathema took his hand. He smiled sadly at her. “I can't have this baby alone. Crowley may never return. I need help.”

“Of course we'll help you. And don't say that. Crowley is coming back.” Anathema squeezed his hand, determination written across her pretty face. “He has to.”  She couldn't imagine Aziraphale without him. It just wouldn't be right.


	11. A Final Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY some ineffable love making!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably my favorite chapter so far to write, and I hope you feel it like I did!

Back in H eaven , a demon, two Nephilim, an Angel of death and a cute little brown-haired angel stood at the pearly gates. Now that Nuri had defeated Gabriel permanently, it was safe for him to return to his true form. “Are you ready?”  Azrail asked.

He nodded, holding Cam's hand. “I love you,” he said, wiping a tear from the smaller Angel’s eye. “Don’t be sad. I'll grow up and love you all over again. You'll see.”

Cam nodded. “I know. I love you too.”

A golden light surrounded Nuri like a swirling galaxy, becoming thicker and thicker until he couldn't be seen. When it dissipated, sitting on the floor was an adorable toddler, about two years old, with white curly hair and bright blue eyes. “Daddy!” he cried, clapping his hands and running to Crowley.

The demon knelt and scooped him into his arms along with Ariel and held both children close. He closed his eyes and breathed them in. They were his world; he'd do anything for them. He knew he'd be saying goodbye to Ariel, yet somehow it didn't feel so unfair. She'd be with Aziraphale, and that's all that mattered.

“Are you ready?” Azrail asked his friend as her patiently waited.

“As I'll ever be.”

The gates opened and the inside of their house appeared. “You'll have one hour,” Azrail explained.

“Thank you.” Crowley stood with his children and walked through the gates, finding himself back in his home as though nothing had changed. “Angel?” he called, but didn't see his love.

“Crowley? You're back!” Aziraphale walked in from the other room, eyes shining as he took in the sight before him. 

Surprised by how much bigger Aziraphale seemed, Crowley asked, “How long was I gone?”

“About a month? Your funeral was  _ lovely _ , by the way,”  Aziraphale said with little inflection.

_Ok, so he's pissed._ “I'm sorry, Angel.” In an attempt to redirect his husband, Crowley presented a shy, white- haired boy, “Meet Nuri.”

“My beautiful boy. How can this be? How is he here?” Aziraphale kissed his children and husband as his anger melted into joy. He accepted Nuri from Crowley and simply couldn’t refrain from staring at his angelic little face.

“It's temporary, I'm afraid.” Crowley brushed a curl from Ariel’s face,  _ I'll miss you so much, baby girl. _

“No,” Aziraphale’s face fell, and he finally looked at his husband. “How long do you have?”

“Just under an hour.”

Aziraphale didn't want to waste any of their precious time together. Instead he held his son and told him he loved him and kissed his sweet face. “I'll see you in Heaven one day soon, baby boy,”  Aziraphale whispered as he kissed Nuri's  forehead . When both children grew sleepy, the men placed them down for a nap in the nursery and headed to their bedroom. 

Alone for the last time on Earth, the door locked shut and Aziraphale turned to his husband—His wonderful, loving, protective, literally died- for- him husband. A shuddering breath escaped him at the demon's gentle touch. He pushed the collar of the oversized sweatshirt over Aziraphale's pale shoulder and kissed it sweetly, his other hand spread over the middle of the bulging belly between them.

They'd made love so many times and in so many places that it was impossible to keep track. Sometimes it was rough and dominating, sometimes playful and hilarious. Tonight , it was emotional,  intentional , and loving. Crowley had been reserved during Aziraphale's pregnancy with Ariel, afraid of hurting his husband in some way or compromising the pregnancy. None of that worry was with him now. Now he just wanted Aziraphale to feel so loved that it echoed through the halls of his life in a way that made him never forget it. He wanted his angel to believe he was beautiful. That every curve, every stretch mark, every place that jiggled or hung was a place Crowley cherished. There wouldn't be a single inch of that white skin left unexplored. 

The angel eventually found himself disrobed and prostrate before his husband, an offering before God of the highest sacrifice. He gripped the bed as Crowley prepared him, taking his time and yet ever aware that time was what they lacked the most."Turn over, Angel. I need to see you,” Crowley gently instructed.

Upon turning over,  Aziraphale wept openly as Crowley made love to him one last time. They clung to each other, unrelenting in their desire for one another.  Aziraphale’s belly prevented Crowley from leaning down to kiss his husband, so instead he kissed his legs all over, then lifted each hand as he gently moved inside his lover and kissed the palms. Crowley had to pull out for a moment to reach but he was able to kiss away his tears, “Don't cry, Angel.”

Aziraphale laced his fingers with his husband’s and tenderly kissed Crowley's hand. “I don't want you to go.”

Crowley smiled, “We’ll only be apart what? Fifty years? Drop in the bucket.”

“Yeah,” Aziraphale smiled through his tears. 

Crowley continued his gentle love- making, hands unceasingly exploring that beautiful body. They changed positions, both laying on their sides with Crowley behind so there was more skin to skin contact. His husband felt warm and soft and inviting, and Crowley thought how worth the wait he was those six thousand years. He knew he'd wait six thousand more if he had to.

Reaching around the front of  Aziraphale , Crowley grabbed his weeping erection and slowly edged him, stopping when he felt his husband shudder in that familiar way. Each time he paused he kissed that pale neck tenderly, breathing in his musk and tasting his sweat.  Aziraphale always smelled a little different when he was pregnant, somehow smelled better, tasted sweeter.

Aziraphale reached back and squeezed his husband's firm ass, eyes shut tightly as he tried to hold back. He didn't want it to end, as overwhelming as it was and despite how his body begged for release, he didn't want it to be over. 

Crowley scraped his teeth along that perfect neck. “Come for me, Angel.”

It was time ; , his hour was nearly gone, so together they screamed as they spilled over that glorious edge. They panted and seized, trembling as they sought to ease their breathing. Satisfaction spread over them like a warm tide, and Crowley pulled out and miracled away their mess.

Aziraphale turned onto his back and Crowley laid his head on his husband’s belly as Aziraphale ran his fingers through red hair. “Boy or girl this time?”

“Both,” Aziraphale said, garnering a confused look from his lover. Aziraphale chuckled a bit before clarifying,  “Twins, my dear. A boy and a girl.”

“Really?!” Crowley smiled and Aziraphale laughed because Crowley was doing that hilarious high- pitched thing with his voice he always did when excited. “You're going to have your hands full.”

“And it's all your fault.” 

They both laughed and eventually fell asleep in a tangle of limbs. Aziraphale would wake up alone. He pulled his husband's pillow to him and breathed in the scent he'd left behind. It wasn't okay and it wouldn't be for a very long time. In the distance, he could hear Ariel crying. She couldn't understand why her brother had gone and , if Aziraphale were being honest, neither could he. 

“Hush now, baby girl. It'll be alright,” he said as he lifted her from her crib. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. It had been unbearably difficult without her, and he knew Crowley wouldn't have been able to live through losing another child. Not one they knew and raised and made memories with. That's why Aziraphale wasn’t angry with him for leaving. He understood the choice Crowley had been faced with. He'd always understood. It just hurt.


	12. Of Angels and Doctors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale goes to the doctor

“What do you mean , you refuse to see a doctor?” Anathema was bewildered. She and Newt had returned with groceries for their friend and when she tried to make an OB appointment for him, he balked.

“I didn't see one the first time.”

“Yeah, well, you should've. Also you're human now, it's different.” She was still clutching the phone, ready to dial.

“I'm just really quite uncomfortable with someone seeing me naked.”

“They see naked people every day.”

“Do they often see naked hermaphroditic people?”

“… No… Isn't the term _intersex?”_

“Are we afraid I'll offend myself?”  Aziraphale sighed. He didn't enjoy being snarky. “Sorry. The answer is still no.”

Anathema huffed and looked to her husband for help. He took the hint and stepped up., “You know, they'll probably find you fascinating. You're the kind of patient who would be read about in text books for years to come. Would you really want to deprive the medical community of something so rare and amazing?”

Aziraphale considered. He'd assumed they'd label him a freak and , honestly , he just couldn't deal with that right now. However, if what Newt said was true …”Then we do this right. I won't see just any OB. I'll need someone specializing in hermaphrodites. Sorry,  _ intersex  _ people.”

_ Of course  _ he had to make it difficult. Anathema faked a smile, “Of course.” She patted her husband’s chest. He’d made a good effort, at least. “Come on,  _ babe.  _ Let's start searching.”

It wasn't as difficult to find a DSD specialist as Anathema thought it would be. There were plenty of resources, and when she showed  Aziraphale what she’d found online, he perked up. When he was an angel , the way he was designed was fine ; , but , after becoming human , he just felt _ different.  _ Crowley always went the extra mile to make him feel good in his body. Whether it was his weight being a particular bother to him, or he felt invisible in a crowd, Crowley made him feel like the king of his castle. 

“Are—are you _ crying?”  _ Anathema stood from her laptop and hugged her chubby, pale friend.

“It's just the hormones,” he blubbered into her shoulder. “I don't want to do this without Crowley!”

She patted his back and shot a look at her husband. They weren't accustomed to their angelic friend falling apart like this. They missed their jovial, rosy- cheeked friend. And Crowley. Things wouldn't be the same without him. 

They could hear Ariel begin to cry from the nursery and  Aziraphale pulled away, wiping his eyes. “She doesn't like it when I'm upset.” As he walked away, he said, “Go ahead and make the earliest appointment, please. Let's just get this out of the way.

***

“Aziraphale Crowley?” A thin nurse in blue scrubs with a stethoscope draped importantly across her shoulders  called from the doorway. She looked from her clip board to the waiting room, scanning for someone to respond to the unusual sounding name.

Standing,  Aziraphale walked over, finger in the air, “That's me,” he said, smiling. “Can my friend come with me?”

“Of course.”

He waved Anathema over and she smiled wide at the invitation, hustling from her waiting room chair and through the door quickly. She had ignored the stares of the other people sitting around, pretending to read magazines. Weren’t they also there for similar reasons? This clinic was specifically intersex, after all. Hadn't they ever seen a pregnant man before?

Even though the answer to that was probably  _ no _ , even for most of the staff, the nurse didn't bat an eye. “I'm Betty,” she offered, ever the professional. Betty walked them back to a scale in the hallway and had  Aziraphale step on. 

“Oh, I fear I've gained considerable weight . , ”  He blushed, fumbling with his hands.

“It happens with pregnancy and it’s better than losing weight,” Betty encouraged. Surely she deserved a damn gold star.

Feeling a bit better about himself, he decided his weight was just fine, though the highest it had been to date. He wondered what Crowley would've said about it. Probably nothing. Those roaming hands would've loved the extra inches of exploration. 

Next,  Aziraphale found he accepted a cloth gown from nurse Betty without question and let her lead him to his room which smelled of hand sanitizer and citrus. It was mildly nauseating. Bett y t explained that she'd be stepping outside so he could get changed. “Oh my,” he thought out loud. Was every doctor ’ s visit like this? Naked beneath a thin sheet that didn’t even cover the backside seemed far from appropriate. Nevertheless, he obliged.

“Should I step outside as well?” Anathema offered her shy friend.

Sheepishly, he glanced over to her, “Please stay.” At this point, he didn't care if she saw him in all his pale, overweight, stretch marked glory. He just didn't want to be alone.

Now adorning the cloth covering, he sat quietly next to Anathema in the little room with its intimidating exam chair and instruments. Betty returned to take his vitals. “Alright,” she smiled, “the doctor will be in shortly.”

He held Anathema’s hand nervously. What if he was given bad news? Having twins sounded difficult, somehow risky. He stared past his slightly protruding belly to his swollen feet. Crowley had always given the best foot massages. Where was he going to get foot massages now?  Aziraphale found himself laughing at his ridiculous train of thought and how upset he felt because of it. Anathema glanced at him but did little more.  Aziraphale’s emotions had been all over the map and she was growing accustomed to it.

Three quick knocks on the door were followed by a doctor entering, smiling wide, ready to make an impression. He was middle-aged, built large but not overweight, balding but it suited him. Thick rimmed glasses pulled the look together as Dr.  Bovenkirk introduced himself.  Aziraphale detected a slight accent—perhaps  German?— but said nothing of it. “I am quite excited to meet you,  Aziraphale . From what I understand, you're the whole package.”

Aziraphale giggled, hands now comfortably placed in his lap. “Quite literally so,” he joked.

“So, I understand you've never been to a doctor before in your life?” He was quite interested in this.

“This is a first for me, yes.”

“But this isn't your first pregnancy. Your chart says it is your third?” He double checked his laptop.

“That is correct.”

“Hm,” The doctor thought to himself, “It is important that you seek medical help if you miscarry again, alright? Sometimes the body needs help healing. You call me any time, okay?” 

Aziraphale nodded. This man was exceptionally kind. It put his mind at ease. “Thank you, doctor.”

“So today I will be examining you, okay? Nothing will hurt. I'm just having a look, making sure you are healthy. We will take pictures of the baby, draw labs, and do immunizations. Do you have any questions?”

Aziraphale shook his head. It made him a bit nervous to know he would be stuck with a needle for the first time in his life , but he was sure he'd manage. It did make him wish Crowley was there, but Anathema would have to do. She smiled at him and rubbed his back when he gave her a worried look. Yes, she would do just fine.

The doctor had him sit in that intimidating chair next to all the torturous- looking instruments and he felt truly nervous in that moment. However, once the doctor had positioned his legs and dipped his head below his gown, he realized it was no big deal. It felt strange to be examined, but it did not hurt, just as promised.

“You really _do_ have both fully- formed male and female genitalia. I bet sex is fun,” the doctor joked, trying to put Aziraphale at ease. He was gentle when inserting the speculum, and even more so when doing the Pap smear. “Almost through. You're a very good patient.”

Next came the exciting part; the ultrasound. Two heartbeats were immediately detected and the doctor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Twins! Congratulations.”

Of course, this was no shock to  Aziraphale , who said nothing as he gazed longingly at the babies on the screen. He couldn't wait to hold them, to smell them. Anathema seemed quite excited as she squeezed his hand and watched the screen.

“They seem healthy to me,” the doctor said, “We’re almost finished. Let's get that bloodwork and send you on your way. I want you on a good prenatal vitamin, alright?” He stood and removed his gloves. “it was lovely meeting you both. I'll see you soon, yes?”

“Yes, thank you.”  Aziraphale was quite proud of himself so far for enduring this appointment. Once the doctor left and the nurse returned with her cart of needles and tubes, however, he began to feel a bit faint. “Oh dear.”

It wouldn't be all that bad, however. The shot in his arm burned a bit and the butterfly needle stung a touch, but Betty was very gentle. He was quite proud of himself for enduring. It wouldn't be until the drive home that he cried, mostly out of exhaustion. It was hitting him quite hard to realize that there would never be another earthly experience he and Crowley would enjoy together. Never another lunch, never another adventure. Never would  Aziraphale find himself in trouble only to be bailed out by his demon prince. He'd find solace in a nap once he was home.  At least he could dream of his husband.


	13. Welcome to The World, Little Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale gives birth to twins

In the following months,  Aziraphale fell into quite a comfortable  routine with Ariel. Newt and Anathema were less needed, but still lovely to have around. They were on standby for the actual birth, which was still months away but closing in quickly.  Aziraphale's protruding stomach acted as the constant reminder of the impending arrival of the twins.

Newt was quite handy for putting together new cribs for the twins and moving Ariel's bed and furniture to a new room. As long as he wasn't dealing with electronics, things seemed to go just fine. They painted the walls a light green, hung sheer , white curtains, and placed family pictures on the walls. The kids would know who Crowley was because Aziraphale made sure his presence was at every turn. They'd know him through pictures and stories and , with any luck at all, they'd be just like him, Aziraphale thought.

Ariel was overjoyed to be moving into a 'big girl’ room. She carefully placed a massive army of stuffed animals upon the bed, including Bunny, whose head had been reattached thanks to Crowley’s excellent surgical skills. Aziraphale smiled, a soft laugh on his lips as he thought about how his love saved the day for one sobbing redhead who was very,  _ very  _ sorry for ripping off Bunny's head.

“What do you think, baby girl?” Aziraphale asked.

“It's perfect!” She danced and twirled, long red curls flying through the air. Golden eyes like diamonds turned up to  Aziraphale , pleading in the way only a daughter who knows how to work her parents can do. “Can I have a picture of Daddy on my nightstand? Please?”

“I think that's a lovely idea,” Aziraphale agreed, pulling his phone from his pocket, “Choose the picture you like best and I'll print and frame it just for you.”

She took the phone and sat cross- legged on the floor, determination etched across her pretty face. “This one,” she decided as she handed the phone back to Aziraphale.

With his free hand, Aziraphale covered his mouth and stifled his sudden emotional response to the picture. Crowley had Ariel on his shoulders, huge smiles on both their faces. That day at the park , she'd had a million questions about being an angel and a demon. In particular, she wanted to know all about flying. Crowley, in all his paternal wisdom, lifted her on his shoulders and began running, telling her to stretch out her arms like wings. They'd never looked so free, and Aziraphale knew he needed to capture the moment so it wouldn't be lost. It was the perfect moment, the perfect memory, the perfect choice. “I'll get it printed,” was all he could gently muster as he exited her room.

Since her return from Heaven, Ariel had become a nephilim again. Perhaps being taken to Heaven undid the miracle Crowley performed to make her human. Whatever the case, she had limited powers, mainly healing abilities. She also had wings that she had to keep hidden at all costs according to her anxious father. Of course, this didn't always work out and one time at the playground , she refused to put them away. The other children and parents thought the fluffy white wings were just an adorable prop and didn't pay them much mind.

Aziraphale, however, very sternly put his foot down with the young girl. He refused to let her outside the house if she disobeyed him, and after some fighting about it, she finally gave in. Aziraphale feared the day she actually figured out how to  _ fly.  _ Those were the days he wished Crowley were there to help.  _ He'd set her straight,  _ Aziraphale thought before realizing that no, he wouldn't.  They'd be in cahoots together causing all kinds of trouble. 

“You are certainly your father's daughter,” he thought out loud as he turned off her light and closed her door for the night. It was his  nightly ritual to enjoy a cup of chamomile with a book in bed. It didn't take much to fall asleep of late. He didn't stay asleep, however. Around two in the morning, he'd need to pee rather badly, and find himself missing the days he slept through the night. His stomach had become unbearably huge, the strain and stretch of it every time he got up the most persistent of annoyances.

At this point, he only had a month or so left to go, and he was counting down the days. It would be nice to get his body back. These little monsters inside him were holding him hostage, and he'd had enough. Mumbling something under his breath about what a bastard Crowley was, he waddled back to bed and heaved himself under the covers. Getting comfortable was an impossibility at this point, but with ample pillows and one down comforter, he managed.

He'd go into labor a couple days early, dropping his tea cup and gasping as it shattered on the floor. Newt and Anathema were playing with Ariel when the commotion in the kitchen pulled them from the living room floor. “I have made quite a mess,” Aziraphale stated breathily, wincing through the pain of that first contraction.

“We’ll worry about that later, let's get you to a hospital!” Anathema came beside him and took his hand, trying to help him navigate the mine field of porcelain shards he'd accidentally created.

“No, no. I want a home birth. No hospitals,”  Aziraphale had argued with Anathema for weeks about this. She was concerned that there would be a higher risk of complications because he was having twins.  Aziraphale decided he just didn't like hospital ' s.

Admitting defeat, Anathema walked  Aziraphale to his bedroom. It was a painstakingly slow journey, and getting him into the bed was more of a hassle than it should have been. “Will you run me a bath, dear?”

“Sure,” she said as she placed a final pillow under his head so he could sit up properly. She walked with purpose into the attached master bathroom and started the water. Aziraphale cried out from his place on the bed, assuring Anathema between contractions that he was alright.

Newt appeared at the door, feeling a bit useless. “Erm, Ariel is a bit concerned and wants to be with you. What should I do?”

“Let her in.” Aziraphale was sweaty and uncomfortable but his little girl made everything better. She climbed onto the bed and sat next to him, worried look troubling her pretty face. “I'm alright. The babies are coming soon, that's all. Do you want to be here for it?”

“Yes please,” she said, placing her tiny hand over his.

“Alright then. I might cry because it hurts, but I'll be okay. Do you understand?” She nodded in response, her face serious. 

“The bath is ready,” Anathema said from the bathroom doorway.

Newt helped  Aziraphale up and into the bathroom, where the former angel disrobed and entered the steamy water. It soothed his aching body but could only offer so much. He crouched in the water, leaning forward with his hands against the sides and pressed his forehead against his knuckles. Anathema stroked his back lovingly, wishing she could take away the pain.

Ariel stood at the doorway, taking in the scene before her. She was almost 4 and bright and clever as ever. She knew what was happening, that her brother and sister were making their way into the world. She knew her father was in tremendous pain, as well. It occurred to her that she could help. Stepping up to her father, she placed her hand on his forehead when he looked up at her. His face went from strained to sated. “Oh, thank you my dear girl.”

“Daddy, I could feel the babies when I touched you.  One of them is sick,” she said sadly.

“Sick? Sick how?” 

“I don't know,” she shrugged a bit. Her powers only told her so much.

Anathema kneeled by her, “Can you help the baby? Is it the  b o y or the girl?”

“The boy. I don't know. I'll try.”

Aziraphale reached over the tub and kissed his sweet girl. Another contraction hit, but the pain was greatly diminished and easily tolerated now. “I think it's time to push,” Aziraphale said as he prepared himself. Experience and instinct both told him what to do, and as he pushed , he realized his  daughter ’ s powers were only so strong. He felt as though he were being ripped in half as he strained. 

He would be quite lucky in that both babies popped out quite quickly after just a few pushes. Anathema had already started draining the tub and Aziraphale scooped them up the moment they touched the water. His baby girl screamed her head off, but the boy was silent. “Here, take her,” Aziraphale said as he handed her off to Newt who wrapped her in a warm towel. Aziraphale sat back against the tub as he held the limp body of his baby boy in his arms, “Not again,” he whispered, overwhelmed as tears clouded his vision.

“Daddy,” Ariel said as she reached out. Without a word he handed over the stillborn child, and she turned away and rocked him, whispering something he couldn't quite understand.

When she turned back around, the baby wailed, new life breathing into his lungs as he announced to the world that he was quite  alive . She smiled and Aziraphale sighed with relief as he sobbed. He didn't know what he'd do without his little girl. Ariel handed  he r y brother back to their father, who sobbed uncontrollably as he held his little boy . -

Eventually Aziraphale calmed down enough to accept help getting out of the bathtub, into a robe, and into his bed. Ariel watched on quietly while her father's friends doted on him and the new babies. They'd quieted down and were nursing peacefully. Ariel wondered if she would have children one day and if it would be like this. She smiled crookedly the way Crowley sometimes did. Having babies was a big to  d ; o , it was no wonder only grown ups did it. It was an awful lot for a child to take in. But she loved her new siblings and wouldn't trade them for the world.

“What are their names?” She asked as she climbed the bed and sat next to her dad.

“Well, I was thinking Anthony and Elizabeth. What do you say, dear girl?”

“I think it's perfect!” She clapped her hands together and smiled in a way that crinkled her eyes nearly shut.

Aziraphale chuckled at her a bit before laying the now sleepy newborns on the bed. They were out rather quickly and he wasn't far behind. Ariel stayed awake and watched over them for a while, fighting sleep the best she could. Eventually it won out, and she found herself nuzzled up against her new baby brother and sister, breathing in their strawberry blonde hair, her body warm against their pale skin. They were perfect blends of both Crowley and Aziraphale, having neither truly red nor blonde hair. Their eyes were a strange kind of hazel, a blue with a gold rim, almost like the ocean at sunset. They were truly beautiful. 


	14. Three's a crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale certainly has his work cut out for him with these children!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling generous today, so I think I'm going to go ahead and post the final chapter after this.

Anathema was brilliant enough to anticipate when  Aziraphale would wake again and have strong coffee made for him. “I feel like I was hit by a truck from the inside,” he complained.

“I can imagine. Epsom salt bath?” She suggested.

“Oh yes, that would be quite nice.” Soon enough, the babies announced their displeasure at being awake and hungry with soiled nappies. Aziraphale frantically tried to accommodate them, hating to hear them cry. He soothed them the best he could and tried to get them to nurse, somewhat successfully. It seemed they were just determined to be pissed off. 

Once they were asleep again, he slipped into the soothing hot bath water Anathema had prepared. It felt so relaxing that he nearly dozed off again himself. If it weren't for Anathema bringing him a second cup of strong coffee, he might have fallen asleep altogether. He was used to Earl Grey or green tea in the morning, but found the extra caffeine the coffee provided quite useful.

It spurred him on to make Ariel breakfast while the twins napped in their crib. He got a few of his daily chores in as well before his body forced him to sit down. The next thing he knew, he was waking to the twins crying again, startled and a bit disoriented. He'd find Ariel in their room, whispering sweetly to them. Already she was such a good big sister.

The days would pass and  Aziraphale's body would heal and be able to keep up with the daily demand of his children. Newt and Anathema would return to their own lives, reminding him that they were but a phone call away. He was glad to have such wonderful friends, but he knew he would get on just fine without them, e ven if it was incredibly lonely at times.

He didn't break down in front of the children, ever. Instead, he hid himself away in his room and drowned out the sound of his sobs with the television. Ariel knew, of course. But she never said anything. She let her dad keep up his jovial façade in front of them. Somehow, she knew he needed it.

Time passed and soon Ariel was a kindergartner headed out the door on her first day of school.  Aziraphale was a mess, frantically running about the house to make sure she had everything and that he'd packed her the perfect lunch. He sent her off to the school bus with a tearful kiss and a wave goodbye as his two year old twins ran about the front yard naked. They were little terrors, those two. It was a good thing they were cute.

The years began to fly by, and soon the twins were in school as well and  Aziraphale had roughly half of everyday to himself. On nice days he'd take his tea out into the back garden and sit on a bench and talk to Crowley.  Aziraphale often joked to himself that Crowley was an excellent listener now that he was dead. What he wouldn't give to hear that voice again, however. “Remember when you asked me to run away with you and I said I didn't even like you? Well, I still don't like you.” He smiled and sipped his tea. “I certainly don't like you enough to have four children with you. Or to miss you everyday. Or to wish you were here.” He stared longingly into his tea cup, stroking the lip with his thumbs. “I do wonder how Nuri is getting on. I wish I had you both with me. One day.”

Not every day was spent being melancholy. Several times, Aziraphale decidedly gave Crowley an earful about what a little _shit_ their daughter was being, or what absolute terrors the twins were. They had gotten into the pantry and smeared peanut butter all over each other and the surrounding area while Ariel simply _watched._ He could’ve died at the sight of the mess. Of course, he snapped a few pictures before throwing the kids in the bath but he made sure Crowley heard all about how _bad_ his children were. It was all Crowley's fault, of course. The angelic side of them would _never_ behave that way.

Then the fateful day came when Ariel learned she could fly. Oh, how  Aziraphale had been dreading it. She was sixteen and every bit her father. Crowley would've been proud, but she gave poor  Aziraphale a real run for his money. “You can only fly after dark. People _ must _ not see you, Ariel. This is a huge responsibility.”

“This is way better than getting a car!” she squealed, zooming around the house, carrying her brother and sister through the air in turns.  Aziraphale was terrified they'd crash, of course.

“Your father would've wanted you to have the Bentley, but only when you're ready. And I don't think you're—oh watch out! Oh  dear!— ready.”  Aziraphale thought he might die of stress when Ariel finally set the kids down and stood before her father.

“He wanted _ me _ to have it?” Okay, maybe the Bentley rivaled flying for coolness.

“Yes. It was his pride and joy before you came along. But you have to prove you're responsible enough, dear girl. Can you follow my rules?”

Her smile fell a bit, “Yes, dad. Of course I can.”

“Well, let's find out then. Mid- terms are next month. If you have all A's and remain responsible with your wings, then I'll have over the keys,” Aziraphale promised.

“I promise I won't let you down!” She clapped her hands together and crinkled her eyes like she’d done since she was a toddler. 

Aziraphale sighed into the hug she offered, noticing the twins had disappeared and it was eerily quiet.  That was never a good sign.  The twins may have looked angelic, but they were definitely two little hellions. He excused himself and scoured the house in search of them. Sure enough, they’d decided to unload the entire contents of every shampoo and soap bottle into the toilet.  _ But why?  _ Aziraphale sent them to their rooms. They'd have to pay for that out of their allowance, the little shits.

At least they behaved alright in school. In fact, they seemed to thoroughly enjoy school and impressing their father with their good grades. At least they didn't give him hell over that. And they hadn't burned the house down. Yet. It wasn't for lack of trying, however.  Aziraphale did notice his alcohol consumption grew as the children did, as well. He had to sate his nerves somehow.


	15. Oh, Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley reunite

By the time the twins were college-aged,  they'd calmed down a good bi t. Ariel was already enjoying a career as a parapsychologist. She'd become quite the expert in her field, which came as no shock to her father. No, what did shock him was her visit home with her long-time boyfriend John announcing their intentions to marry. Of course,  Aziraphale loved John and was overjoyed by the news. “This calls for celebration!”  Aziraphale shuffled into the kitchen and popped open a bottle of champagne, pouring three glasses and bringing them out. He toasted, but noticed Ariel didn't drink hers.

“Dad,” she laid her hand on her belly, “I'm pregnant.”

Aziraphale's head spun. He grabbed her up in a hug and laughed, delighted. “Congratulations, you two. Having children is the best thing in the world.”

Later on in the evening Ariel helped clean up the kitchen. John was watching TV in the living room with the twins; the three of them were useless when it came to chores. “Does he know about you?”  Aziraphale asked in a low voice as he dried a plate.

“No,” she sighed, “I can't bring myself to tell him.”

“What are you going to do if that baby pops out with wings, Ariel?”

“I don't know.”

“Tell him. He deserves to know.”

She knew he was right, but it was terrifying. What if John took one look at her wings and ran for the hills? What then? When they got back home she'd tell him then. She'd tell him everything.  He r y father was right ; , he deserved the truth.

Aziraphale was so excited to be a grandfather. With all three children out of the house, he found himself talking to Crowley even more often. When he was dusting the furniture or organizing his bookshelves for the umpteenth time, he'd find he had all sorts of things to tell Crowley. “My life has gotten quite dull, hasn't it?” He sighed.  _ Maybe I should travel.  _ He smiled, thinking he could revisit some of his and Crowley's favorite spots. Perhaps he'd start with Greece and go from there. 

There would be plenty of time to turn his guest room into a nursery for his grandchild between his travels.  Aziraphale smiled as he planned his solo trip, fond memories of his life with Crowley before children, before marriage, popping into his head. 

Aziraphale would find whispers of happiness throughout his life and travels. He would welcome his grandson into the world, John by Ariel's side. The truth hadn't shaken him. In fact, it made some things he'd been wondering make more sense. They were closer now, stronger. 

Nothing would ever fill the Crowley- shaped hole in his heart, however. He'd made it to that golden age of arthritis and hearing loss. Even though his family had grown over the years and they loved him so, he knew it was time to go. 

Unsure how he got there,  Aziraphale allowed the cool ocean waters to lap at his toes. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue across the waves. The smell of salt hung in the air and in the distance a gull cried. Feeling a familiar presence to his right,  Aziraphale did not look up from the water. “Hello again, old friend.”

“Are you ready?”  Azrail asked, gentle hand on  Aziraphale's shoulder.

“Yes.”

Together the two friends stepped into the ocean waters, disappearing beneath it as the sun set and the colors faded.  Aziraphale was leaving this life behind for good, and while he wasn't sure whether he'd be angel or human in Heaven, he did know one thing for sure : ; Crowley would be there.

The pearly gates appeared before him in all their ostentatious splendor, trumpets announcing the arrival of one of Heaven’s own. It felt like he'd only just been here yesterday and yet it seemed like an eternity passed since he's stepped foot on this hallowed ground. 

As he passed through the gates , he heard the familiar voice he’d been  ach ing for so long to hear.  _ “Angel.” _

“Crowley.” He smiled tearfully, overcome. 

His red-headed lover took off at a sprint to meet him. Before he could even process the scene unfolding before him, Crowley had  Aziraphale wrapped in his arms, holding him close, showering his face with kisses. Crowley breathed him in, every neuron firing in utter bliss at the return of their missing piece. 

“Oh, how I've missed you, dear,”  Aziraphale said between blistering kisses as his fingers tangled in red locks. 

“I've missed you so much,” Crowley whispered, desperate to get his husband alone.

But first, “Nuri!”  Aziraphale was shocked to see what a gorgeous,  _ huge  _ young man he'd grown into. They embraced and  Aziraphale thought for a moment his son might crush him.

“Dad,” Nuri smiled, wiping his eyes. They'd never be separated again, and just knowing that was overwhelming.

“You're so, so  _ big.  _ My God, boy. What have they been feeding you?”

Nuri laughed. There was really no good reason for his size. He shrugged. Crowley interrupted the happy reunion, biting his bottom lip a bit as he placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Eh, so, there’s something I need to show you.”

“Oh?”

“Follow me, Angel.”

They walked hand in hand toward what  Aziraphale assumed must've been Crowley's expansive house. Upon entering, the rooms were much larger than he anticipated. “It's.. It's bigger on the inside,”  Aziraphale remarked.

There were a few winged children of various ages sitting around playing games or reading books. Crowley stood in the middle of the living room and  cupped  his hands to his mouth to amplify his voice, “Children!”

Over a hundred children and young adults appeared, a flutter of wings so loud it was nearly deafening. Once they’d settled, Crowley turned to Aziraphale, “Uh, you see, these children were left orphaned after Gabriel kidnapped them. So uh, I adopted them. All uh, 200… of them.”

Wide- eyed with shock, Aziraphale turned from the crowd to his husband, “Two—did you say two _hundred?”_

“Uh, yup. Yes I did.”

“We have two _ hundred _ children?”

“Two hundred and four.”

Aziraphale looked back out over the crowd,  “Oh,  _ dear.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been amazing writing this bittersweet tale. I hope you loved it as much as I did. Thank you for reading. You feedback is cherished.


End file.
